Showing posts with label eel. Show all posts
Showing posts with label eel. Show all posts

Sunday, June 18, 2017

Summer 2017 RoughFish.com Spring Species Contest

The Spring Species Contest is an annual competition held by roughfish.com for whomever can catch the most species of standard-sized (no micros) freshwater fish species in the month of June.

This was my third year participating, and while I ended up with a much poorer performance than last year, I did end up catching some very cool fish.

June 1st was a day to knock off the easy targets. A quick walk to the golf course pond produced a largemouth bass and a bluegill, my first two species of the contest.



Wasting little time, after those two were caught I headed down to the stream to catch some other sunfish species, as well as a creek chub. 

Fishing with little jigs of various sizes, I was able to pretty easily catch a creek chub, followed by a redbreast sunfish, and then a rock bass. I find that the rock bass could be targeted specifically by utilizing larger lures that the redbreasts and bluegills couldn't fit into their comparatively smaller mouths, so by upping my lure size by quite a bit, I was able to catch the rock bass I was looking for. 




For some ungodly reason what  eluded me on that specific outing were the green sunfish and the pumpkinseeds; otherwise prolific and aggressive species. No worries, I was sure that I would come across them later. 

That night I made my way to another local pond, with the objective of catching a channel catfish for the contest. Arming myself with cut bait, I ended up connecting with a bunch of nice-sized channel catfish. 

Unfortunately, self-timer shots aren't always the best option....


I decided to fish later into the night, and that was when I caught what perhaps was my most memorable fish of the contest. 

As the sun dipped behind the trees, activity picked up; with my lines bouncing all over the place, likely from smaller fish nudging the bait but unable to get hooked. 

Intent on the small knocks, I failed to notice that the line on one of my rods had gone completely slack. How long it had been in that state, I'm still not sure. I picked up the rod, and slowly reeled my line. I felt a little bit of weight on the end, and set the circle hook by slowly sweeping the rod to the side. 

Immediately I knew that the fish was a higher caliber than the others I had caught thus far. A short fight later, however, I had it near the bank. It was still dark, and my headlight was dim, so I couldn't effectively make out its size. What I could tell, however, was that the hook was barely handing on on a tiny flap of skin. As soon as this fact became evident, the fish proceeded to death roll right next to shore and I watched with horror as the hook popped out.

Luckily, reflex kicked in and I dunked my arm into the water and scooped the fish out onto the bank before it hand a chance to regain its senses and make a break for it. Once the fish was on the bank, I realized its size. I had caught my new pb channel, a fish that crushed my previous one. 


Another stroke of luck—when I landed the fish, my dad had arrived and was able to take a proper photo. The day ended on a high note; with that fish still fresh in my mind I packed my things and headed home. There were several other species that needed to be caught in the following month. 

As aforementioned, the green sunfish and pumpkinseeds were supposedly two surefire species that I had failed to catch on my first outing. That was a fact that needed to be remedied. A trip back to the creek had me wondering how I ever struggled to catch them in the first place. I also caught a beautifully marked stream bass. 




Another local creek I knew had the potential to yield american eel, yellow bullhead, and stocker rainbow trout. Unfortunately, when I arrived the creek was blown out and more rain was to come. To my  great surprise, then, on the first drift with a bit of worm under a float I watched the float shoot down in a small eddy. I tightened up, and was connected to the first and only rainbow trout of the outing. 


A worm on the bottom quickly yielded a small yellow bullhead. 


The action died after those two fish were caught in short order, and the rain started to pour. I decided to call it a trip before I got soaked, without my american eel. Nonetheless, the outing was still successful, with two more species added to my contest total. 

A little while later in June I made to trip out to a nearby lake, which had the potential to yield multiple species I still needed for the contest, including white perch, which would be a lifer and had eluded me thus far, to my great surprise. I had fished in locations where I knew for a fact that they were plentiful, and had even seen them caught right next to me, and yet I still failed to capture one. 

Upon arriving to the lake, I sent out bottom-rigged nightcrawlers on two rods and fished another rod with a small jig.

Gently jigging by brush cover near the shoreline produced the first of many tiny black crappie: small, but another species to add to my contest total. 


One of the worm rods got a hit, and I reeled in an american eel, which had previously avoided me at the other creek. Another species!


Immediately after the eel, I noticed one of my other rods was twitching. I set the hook into a beautiful little white catfish, only my third ever catch of the species and my second from New Jersey.


As the day descended into night, I caught plenty more black crappie and a couple yellow bullheads. Still, however, the white perch eluded me.



Sometimes, you need a break from the contest grind. I made the decision to spend a couple hours on the golf course chasing big sunfish with lures, and had a blast. 

I don't know if this pumpkinseed is my biggest ever, but it has to be close—that thing was huge

Big bull bluegill

Several days later, I decided to make one last go at the white perch. Returning to my spot at the lake, I focused my efforts on jigging, this time using a smaller feather jig tipped with a little piece of Gulp!. 

As expected, the black crappies were out in full force. 


But as the sun got continuously lower, I noticed a grey flash behind my jig, far from the actual cover and more near the center of the bridge/dock I was fishing off of, in deeper water. I recast, and something hit it hard.

A short but spirited fight (definitely much tougher than the crappie) led to my first white perch! That's species #79.


Plenty more followed subsequently.



I think I cracked the white perch code at this specific lake—as dusk approached, they would rise towards the surface by the dock, but would go back down or to wherever they came from by dark. White perch are known to be a schooling fish. By nightfall, the black crappies returned.



With the white perch conquered, I set my sights on other venues to pursue perhaps even more elusive species. I traveled to a swampy tributary of the Delaware, in the hopes of catching a snakehead or a bowfin. 

Why don't I cut to the chase: my aspirations for this outing were largely unmet; a couple hours chucking chatterbaits, weedless frogs, and other lures yielded none of the mentioned species. However, the day was not wasted...

Upon my arrival to a weedy, shady backwater, I noticed tons of killifish-like fish swimming in the shallows. Having suspicions that these were mummichogs, which I still needed for my lifelist, I whipped out the tanago hooks (always gotta be prepared) and promptly caught one. 

Species #92: the mummichog.


Further fishing with micro gear led to this catch of a lit-up spawning male, dressed in sharp yellow and with blue edges on the fins.


With the larger predators evidently not cooperating, I set my sights on other, more plentiful species. Pumpkinseeds and green sunfish were readily available and eagerly pounced on the opportunity to bite a little piece of worm.


However, I poked around a piece of log with a small redworm, trying to see if I could entice any smaller, more interesting species.

That's when I saw a small, dark fish pop out from under the wood cover to suck in the worm, then promptly swim back to safety. I pulled tight, and lifted the fish out of the water—and froze.

It was a warmouth.

This sunfish species is incredibly uncommon in New Jersey, and I had no clue whatsoever that it would be present here. I knew of its relatively rare presence in a pond nearby, so looking back I shouldn't have been so shocked. Nonetheless, it caught me by complete surprise.

There's species #93: the warmouth.

This particular individual has a head almost half the size of its body. 

I also ended up catching a few turtles of interest.

Common snapping turtle

 Eastern Painted Turtle

Northern Red-bellied Cooter

Thus ended my adventures in pursuit of species for the contest. It was a fun month, and I ended with three new species from local waters! Check out roughfish.com to participate in the contest and forum!

Sunday, May 31, 2015

Redemption!!! (and some other awesome stuff)

Recently, I got my hands on some sampling reports from the Millstone River near my home. It said that 200 American Eels had been electrofished from a certain section of river. It sounded like a great place to redeem myself after the tragic incident of last weekend.

I got dropped off at a great spot (thanks, Google Earth!) at 6:30 with heavy cloud cover and began fishing. I only had about one and a half hour, so I was looking for some quick action. Quickly after I arrived, I set up a heavier rod with a 3/0 circle hook and a chunk of threadfin herring. I used my lightest rod with a spinner in hopes of a fallfish or smallmouth bass. After a lull with no action, I turned to my third rod, rigged up a whole nightcrawler and some split shots, and cast it out to await events. '

After only a couple minutes, I noticed a definite tap, and then slack line, I noticed the same thing later, followed by slack line that was quickly moving. I picked it up and set the hook...

Whatever was on my line was not very large and I reeled it in with relative ease. As it neared the shore, I saw a long, greenish-grew wriggling shape at the end of my line...

American Eel!!!!!!

I quickly lifted it up and carried it as far from the bank as possible, and took a few pictures. The whole time all I could say was "american eel, american eel" muttered over and over... This was redemption!!!


Eels are just about the slimiest, squiggliest fish I have ever seen. It took me forever just to get this photo, and my hands were covered in slime! Well, there it is, species #42 and yet another check off the NJ species list!



Like I said, eels are slimy...

It was quite a bit smaller than the eel I had encountered at the Delaware River last week, but it was still an eel, and one of the coolest fish I've ever caught. As I was washing my hands from all the eel slime, I thought of my other rod with cut bait, some 50 yds upstream in a log jam. I had a feeling something was going on...

I sprinted to the other rod to find it doubled over, barely hanging on to the log I had propped it up against. I picked it up and the fight was on! The rod was heavier than the other rods, but still pretty light. Whatever was on the other end was heavy, and not going down without a fight. My rod was seriously bent as the fish peeled drag. The fish almost got me in a logjam, But I managed to turn it at the last moment into more open water. The fight took at least three minutes (or it felt like it), with the fish bulldogging the entire time. As it neared the bank, I see a huge channel catfish! According to the sampling report (2014), they only found 1 channel catfish here...

Now came the problem of landing it. I didn't bring a net, and I simply couldn't lift the fish up the steep bank and onto the log I was standing on. I realized what I had to do. I gave the fish some line, and maneuvered the rod around the gnarled roots. In doing so, I fell and got pretty badly scraped, but my first channel catfish was on shore, and not a tiddler, especially for here and a river that isn't stocked!

While it was on the bank, the fish spit the hook. I immediately put a death grip on its lower jaw and sprinted back to where all my stuff was. I took some pictures...



And then let the big guy go. He weighed 6 lbs on the dot on my digital scale. There's species #43 and yet another species of the NJ list. 2 epic lifers back to back!

After this awesome catch, I decided to call it a day and relax by the river bank.

Where I caught the eel

The rod saving log. My reel was right under that ridge along the log, and those are the roots I had to climb over to land the catfish.

The logjam

Sorry for the blurry pictures, the lighting was horrible and I was using an ipad. What kinda sucks is that it is May 31st, just a couple hours more and I could put them in the June species contest... Can't be too greedy though. :)

Monday, May 25, 2015

My Dramatic Event with an American Eel...

On Memorial Day, my friend Eric and I took a trip to the Delaware River, with hopes of lifers like channel catfish and american eel.

It was a gorgeous day, with clear water and sunny skies. Although it was pretty, there seemed to be a lack of fish and action for a long time, so I'll just cut right to the good stuff.

I was fishing in a deep hole behind a boulder, drifting a live crayfish, when I felt a vicious strike. I reeled in only to find half a crayfish left. I drifted the half for a long time, until I felt another strike, this time taking away my other half. I decided to use a cut creek chub, with more weight to let it sit and await events.

Lo and behold, I got another strike, but it escaped with my chub. Darn circle hooks!

Rigging up with a fresh creek chub head, I let my bait sit again. I was just cutting up some bait for Eric's little brother Branden when I hear him say, "Your rod, your rod!!!"

I turn around to see my rod bent in half, line peeling from the reel. I grab it, tighten, and fight the fish. The fish was very heavy and strong, and pure muscle during the fight. Consistent, heavy, thumping. I was thinking big channel catfish the entire time. But when I saw a pointy nose come out of the water with a green-grey snake body, I knew it was an eel. I failed to bring a net (I'm so dumb), so I had to drag the eel up onto the gravelly shoreline.

I got it onto the bank, and lifted it up with the hook still attached to show Eric's dad. The eel was huge, more than 3 feet long and at least 3 inches thick.

It was at that moment when disaster struck.

The eel freaked out thrashing as I struggled to get a grip on it. It snapped my 15 lb test braid, falling onto the ground. It was madness trying to get it, with Branden and I trying to get the eel, which was snaking at an incredible pace towards the water. I even had it in both my hands at one point, but those darn things are just about the slipperiest, slimiest creatures on Earth. As it entered the water, Branden dove forward to grab it, but missed, and got soaked in the process. It swam off so fast it was out of sight before I knew it in the crystal-clear water.

And then it was gone.

After a long moment of frustration, I sat down to re-rig and review the things I did wrong. I didn't bring a net, I should've been quicker in getting a grip on the eel, etc. Well, now I know for next time. At least I caught one.

I will redeem myself, though...